


The World

by Niko_Niko_Neek



Category: Chaos Walking - Patrick Ness
Genre: Domestic, F/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:09:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22622311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niko_Niko_Neek/pseuds/Niko_Niko_Neek
Summary: A year after emerging from his coma, Todd spends the morning with his son. Post Monsters of Men.
Relationships: Viola Eade/Todd Hewitt
Comments: 2
Kudos: 31





	The World

**Author's Note:**

> All the movie buzz has me all emo about my favorite book series again.

He always wakes up about three minutes before the baby starts to cry. He isn’t sure if it’s the baby’s noise starting to stir and pull him out of whatever dreams he’s faced with, or just a sheer parental instinct that drags him back into the waking world. The sliver of sky that was visible from beyond the window was an inky blue, somewhere in the transition between night and day. He can faintly hear the sound of Viola’s breathing, still deep and soft, just beside him. 

He turns his head to take in the sight of the woman sleeping beside him. Sleep gives Viola a rare expression of peace, one she often lacks in the waking hours. Todd isn’t sure what to blame for the constant knitting of her brow-the fact that she had come to Prentisstown in such a catastrophic way, or the loss of both her parents. Maybe it was simply the fact that she, like him, had been too young for all of the things that had happened to her.

A quiet sigh leaves him. There is a depth of feeling for her that seems to evade words like ‘love’ or ‘affection.’ It’s not the fact that he’d married her at age nineteen, as soon as he’d recovered from his coma and been well enough to stand and walk on his own, or the things they’d done for each other. It’s more to do with the fact that she’s no one other than Viola Eade, and has never tried to be anyone else.

She shifts a little in her sleep, and Todd watches for a moment, wondering what kinds of things she’s dreaming about. She still lacks any noise, so he can’t try and listen in on her dreams like she sometimes does to him, to tease him about it later (which usually doesn’t matter, because he forgets them by the time he wakes up.)

A full year. This woman had waited a full year for him to get better. A full year of reading out loud and praying.

He can’t think about it for too long because it still makes him emotional, so Todd brushes the revelation away from now and brushes her bangs away from her forehead. The faint sound of stirring is coming from the other room, as well as the faint waking, nonsensical chatter of baby Noise, so he presses a short kiss to Viola’s cheek and carefully gets himself out of bed.

He still has to be a little careful about walking. He’s mostly better, and it takes far less effort now than it had after he’d first fully woken up. By then, the muscles in his legs and arms had grown weak from sheer lack of use, and he hadn’t been able to stand for more than a few seconds before his knees would buckle and he’d topple right over. Of course, Todd was far from a patient person, much to both Viola and Ben’s annoyance. It at one point had frustrated Viola to the point where, when he’d next fallen over, she’d just stood with her arms crossed glaring at him, and only after he tried and failed to get himself back to his feet did she come over to help him up. “So, what did we learn, here?” she’d demanded with an arched brow.

The scar on his chest seems silver in the dim pre-morning light. It’s still huge, taking up most of the skin from his right hip all the way to his collarbone. Being hit with a missle at point-blank range was going to leave a mark, and Todd wasn’t surprised much by it anymore. It had looked far worse when he’d first woken up. The only thing he resents is the brief expression of pain that always crosses Viola’s face when she sees it.

Todd yawns as his bare feet pad across to the crib, and when he looks in, his son is already awake.

It’s still difficult to imagine how you could actually create a tiny, human person out of seemingly nothing. A several-hour period of time had led to the manifestation of impossible small feet, a little voice that could cry and gurgle, and two dark brown eyes that stared up at him in serene recognition. He so rarely cried, hardly even fussing when he woke up-they’d been blessed in that regard, even if he and Viola had both gone through relatively sleepless nights as well.

“Hey, Bradley.” Todd greets his son in a hushed whisper.

Soft, half-formed images and feelings issue from the infant’s noise. He’s too little to assign words to thoughts, so it’s a hazy series of pictures-Todd’s own face, fuzzy with unshaven stubble, the light coming in from the window, the small collection of wooden carvings hanging above the crib. In response to Todd’s voice, Bradley wiggles his feet, hands clenching and unclenching.

It had been Todd to suggest the name, back when they’d first found out she was expecting. Todd could have been knocked over with a gust of wind when Viola had mentioned it, almost offhandedly, as though she hadn’t entirealy planned it that way. His jaw had dropped.

“....You’re kidding.”

Viola had chuckled a little. “Is there a reason I’d joke about something like that?”

It had felt as though every cell in his blood was singing, vibrating with a frequency that almost resembled hearing Ben’s all-encompassing noise. His hands had shook when he reached out to grasp her wrists gently.

“....Boy or girl?”

“How should I know?”

“I don’t..” Todd found himself blinking back a few tears, managing a watery laugh. “Aren’t ma’s supposed to know that? Instinct, or somethin?”

Viola had squeezed his hands. “Maybe later I’ll have a better idea.”

Presently, Todd lifted the baby up, nestling his head against his shoulder. He’d been born with a thick head of dark hair, much like Todd’s, though he swore the face more resembled Viola’s from what he could see.

“Yeah, okay. Up and at ‘em, huh?” Todd murmurs, patting Bradley’s back. A small noise emmentated from the infant’s mouth, as though in agreement. The sun was rising when Todd carried his boy out to the back porch, the warm morning air greeting them both as the door shut behind him. Beyond, the green fields rolled outward to meet the wall of trees beyond. It had been Ben’s idea to start raising livestock again, and the return to routine had proven comforting to Todd. It helped when the memories from the war got to be too much, and the monotonous noise from the horses and sheep proved comforting. The sky in the east had turned a bright pink, singed through with gold.

Bradely began to fuss where he was being held, always insistant to be facing outward to see everything Todd was seeing-unless Viola was holding him, in which case Bradely was happy to be snuggled for as long as she’d permit. He situated his arms so that the baby could see outward.

“Those are the horses, out there.” Todd says, pointing outward. “And the goats will come through soon, to have their breakfast ‘n such. You’ll see ‘em.” His eyes drift further to the trees beyond. Down the stretch of road to the left would be Ben’s home, though he wasn’t always found there, preferring to remain with the Spackle. Then, further on the opposite stretch, was the rest of the town. The town that he and Ben and Viola, and Lee, and Simone, and the bigger Bradely, had all made together.

“And that’s the world, out there.”

Todd brings his chin down to press an affectionate kiss to the top of his son’s head.

Years ago, Todd would have been wondering what to do when his son reached his thirteenth birthday and would be expected to become a man in the most violent way possible. He wonders if Ben and Cillian had felt this way when Todd himself had been a baby. If they had the same lingering fear.

He holds his son tighter. “You’re gonna love it. Me and your ma, we’re gonna keep it safe for you.”

Birdsong filters in through the trees and, as Bradely watches the limbs sway in the trees, Todd begins to mumble, almost subconsciously, the song which had lingered at the edge of his mind since childhood.

_“Early this morning, just as the sun was rising…”_


End file.
